


Taste of Affection

by Tabi920



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Fluff, M/M, maze runner - Freeform, smut later tbh, this is really long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2586365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabi920/pseuds/Tabi920
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If ya’ wanna talk about it, greenie, I’ll be here.” Thomas stared at him for a moment before clearing his throat, taking an automatic step back. “Yeah, sure. I’ll keep that in mind.” Newt flashed him that dazzling smile and turned on his heels, walking off toward the others. Thomas watched blankly, before closing his eyes and breathing in heavily through his nose.</p>
<p>	Fuck.</p>
<p>-------------------</p>
<p>In which Thomas feels a connection, him and Newt are obliviously in love, Gally's a homophobic bully, and Chuck is impatient</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste of Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Yes hello please do not be offended by any homophobic slurs, I was just trying to stay in character   
> I will be adding multiple chapters and this is my first published work, so please don't be afraid to comment

The only thing Thomas was sure of was that he knew Newt. 

Alright, yeah, so, he obviously knew him; Newt had been the first to really take him under his wing - Chuck, poor kid had tried, but didn’t have Thomas feeling more secure as Newt did - and he had been with the tall blonde daily, whether it’d be to lend a hand or to await the runners eagerly outside the forbidden walls. 

But this was different than with everyone else. Thomas knew him. Even though he had no memories of his life before the Glade, he knew, he could tell, that he had known Newt before. That he had seen him, had spoke with him, and maybe even trusted him just as much as currently. Though Thomas wouldn’t say anything. He could hear the laughter already, at how ridiculous it all sounded - No one in the glade had known each other. It was randomized. He knew that. But he couldn’t shake the feeling… He really knew him.

“What’s wrong, shuck face? Cat got ya’ tongue?”

The light, raspy voice had Thomas jump from his spot on the grass, his head snapping to the side in surprise. His eyes met a warm, twinkling brown, and he felt his heart stutter in it’s beat. Weird. “What?”

“Come on, Tommy, I’ve been yellin’ ya’ bloody name across the Glade for a good while now. Don’t tell me ya’ haven’t heard me?” Thomas swore under his breath, scrambling up to his feet from his comfortable position in the field. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” “Ain’t that the truth.” Newt studied him cautiously, before tilting his head to the side. He wet his lips, blonde hair falling into his face in wisps. “C’mon, join everyone for dinner. You’ve already missed a good ten minutes.” Thomas had glanced over to the rowdy boys enjoying their meal, at Gally in particular, hands in the air like he was royalty while the crowd half-heartedly watched him speak. What a jerk-off. 

“Nah,” Thomas started slowly, his fingers finding their way into his front pockets, “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” It was short, he knew, but it got the point across. Newt’s eyes questioned and Thomas willed himself to look away. Eyes on the ground, he heard the blonde shit on his feet, but refused to allow himself to look up again. There was a short pause. “Well, good that, I suppose, but don’t expect me to be passin’ extra food your way in the mornin’.” Thomas actually cracked a smile; He peeked up, keeping his head mostly down, faltering when he saw Newt wasn’t smiling back.

“What’s the matter wit’cha, greenie, you’re not actin’ like yourself.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Well, sure ya’ do.” Newt stepped closer and the blondes hand slapped the others shoulder, fingers curving around in a firm grip. He bent over at the waist, bringing his face uncomfortably close to Thomas’, with a stern expression. 

Thomas felt his heart racing, and he stared at the other in awe, nearly melting at the closeness between them. He was beautiful, really, golden hair and the warmest set of eyes he’d seen in the glade. Awfully pale, he loved it. Eyebrows arched in concern, boyish features so close to him he could see the small scratch across the bridge of his nose from earlier that day, when he had stumbled over his bad leg and dropped face-first into a pile of wood, in the most endearing manner ever. He felt the other’s breath fanning across his lips, and Thomas’ eyes lidded slightly in want. 

Just as he was about to pucker his lips and close the distance, the other spoke, snapping Thomas out of his daze and having him flinch back in surprise at his own thoughts - “If ya’ wanna talk about it, greenie, I’ll be here.” Thomas stared at him for a moment before clearing his throat, taking an automatic step back. “Yeah, sure. I’ll keep that in mind.” Newt flashed him that dazzling smile and turned on his heels, walking off toward the others. Thomas watched blankly, before closing his eyes and breathing in heavily through his nose.

Fuck.

* * *  
Usually, the smell of pine and the cracks of thin twigs below his feet had comforted Thomas, brought him just hints of the memories he thought he’d had before the Glade. Tickling his nose with the all too familiar smell and the texture of walking on unlevel farmland, giving him a painful yet pleasant experience of what he wanted to remember, but couldn’t. Except tonight. Tonight, nothing was calming as he walked, face burning, the only thing on his mind being the blonde shank that had smiled at him so sincerely, eyes kind and helpful. Eyes that had his knees go weak.

There he went again, with those thoughts. With a groan of aggravation, Thomas thrust his fist forward into the bark of the nearest tree, his free hand coming up to press against his face. His face really was burning harshly, he felt it in his fingertips. The frustration of not knowing why - or how - he felt so differently was killing him. It felt like it did the first time he entered the Maze, in a way. Unsure and anxious and it shouldn’t have felt so extreme, just to be so close to the guy who took him under his wing, it shouldn't have made his stomach flip, and it definitely shouldn’t have made him try to kiss the slint-head.

No. Thomas wouldn’t even think about that. It was in the moment, and he wasn’t even sure he really was trying to throw himself at the other. Thomas wasn’t feeling like himself, he was already questioning his connection with the blonde, and for all he knew, he was having a bad daydream. Yeah, that was it - a bad daydream and nothing else, no way he really got lose in those beautiful, warm-

Fuck, there he went again.

With another hiss, he hit the tree bark again, this time retrieving his hand immediately, since the hit was too hard on his knuckles. He rubbed them unconsciously, eyeing the ground but not really seeing. It wasn’t until he heard the leaves crunch behind him that he whirled around, both arms going up in defense, and then hardly biting back a snip of words when he saw an unfortunately all-too-familiar face. “What do you want, Gally?”

The smirk of the other was almost too much to bear; eyes slanted and lips curving in an unnerving grin, arms crossed tightly across his chest. The voice of the other sent chills down Thomas’ back. It was filled with a cocky tone that Gally only ever used to stir trouble. “I saw your little episode.” “Episode?” 

“Did I stutter, you shank?” Gally asked coldly, arms dropping to hold his own waist. “I saw it. All of it.” “I’d feel more threatened If I knew what you were talking about,” Thomas scoffed, and ran a hand through his hair, already starting to walk past the bastard as he spoke. “And if you weren’t trying to flex your fat klunk around me-”

Thomas was cut off from words and actions when Gally’s arm slapped him in the stomach, hard, causing the wind to knock right out of him, stumbling backwards over his own legs. The force of it wasn’t what had him scrambling, but the shock the shank had actually laid a hand on him. He heard Gally’s voice again; darker, and without reason. “Your episode, greenie. With your boyfriend.” He just about spat the word at the boy on the ground, whose face had paled and words stuck in his throat. Thomas wanted to object immediately, to tell him how it really was, but for some reason, he couldn’t find a way to do it. Instead, he let Gally continue, shocked at the intensity of the teen’s voice. 

“We have order around here, greenie. Something you need to respect.” Gally took two steps forward, eyes glaring into the widened eyes of Thomas’. “That’s not how things work. Not with all of us as a group, and not with two men. You got a brain, don’tcha’, greenie? You remember how things are supposed to work. You’re sick.”

Thomas shrunk down, stomach churning, managing to grab a branch from the tree and pull himself up, feeling a small amount of determination rock through him. “You don’t know klunk, Gally. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” “That’s what I want to hear. ‘Cause I’m giving you a warning, greenie.” Thomas was about to question, but Gally interrupted him fast, hand reaching out in warning to another blow to the stomach. “I don’t want to see any of that klunk again. Listen to me - If I see it again, neither you or your boyfriend are gonna make it.”

There it was again - Boyfriend. The word had Thomas’ stomach knot and his lips twitched down a bit, realizing he really wouldn’t be able to get a word in wise.

“I’ll make sure I break your neck right in front of him if I see anything like that again. It’s not natural. You better understand me.” “I-” “Don’t give me that look, shank. I can see it clear as day, how he looks at you. I’ve known Newt for years, kid, years. Not once has he looked at someone the way he looks at you.” Thomas’ heart thumped. “And I haven’t seen you drooling over some slint either. You get one warning, greenie - I’m being generous. You think everyone else will take kindly, to you bargin’ in, distracting our ‘second in command’, and stirring up what isn’t natural?

We have things a certain way. And I won’t let some trouble-making faggot,” Thomas flinched at the word, head thumping against the wood behind him, “ruin that. Are we clear, greenie?” They stared eachother down for a while. Thomas’ face red and Gally’s dark, both in a defensive stance, feet apart, fists clentched. How dare he, how dare he barge in on his thinking time, throwing his fist against Thomas’ stomach, yelling at him so vulgar, over something he knew nothing about? Thomas felt his rage rising up his throat and his breathing escalated, digging his nails into his palms harshly, nearly drawing blood from his rough skin. 

Neither one looked away for a good while, before Thomas, through grit teeth, released his fingers and flexed them, relaxing them from the tension he’d had them clenched in. “We’re clear.” He paused. “We would be, anyway, if anything was up. I’m not like that, Gally, I’m not…” “A queer?” The word had the anger bubble up again, but Thomas nodded shortly. “Yeah.” Gally nodded and offered the same, evil smirk he had gave him earlier. “I hope so, greenie, ‘cause it’d suck for the blondie himself to be the main one to banish you.”

Thomas had heard enough, and with a raise of his chin, he tried once again to walk past the bully, this time succeeding. So many thoughts went through his head at once; Gally’s threats, if the gang would really banish him for something that felt so natural, and more importantly, he thought about how right Gally was. As Thomas walked back to the group of boys, his head ached and pounded from stress, and his eyes immediately trailed to the tall, scrawny blonde, a thin arm thrown around Chuck idly as he spoke to his friends, eyes shining and blonde hair seeming to move in the opposite direction that his head moved for emphasis. Thomas felt his stomach drop, and he bit one of his already abused knuckles, resisting another light scream to tear from his throat like before.

 

* * *

Thomas had been avoiding him for days. Every time Newt had approached him, whether sending regards before he left for the maze, or trying to sling a friendly arm around his shoulders during dinner, Thomas would slip from his grip easily and manage to get lost in the crowd of boys, not sparing a glance in Newt’s direction. The shank kept ignoring his words as well, not so much as raising his head when he was greeted, only continuing to go on and act as if he wasn’t there, a complete stranger.

And, well, of course he wouldn’t tell, but it bloody hurt.

Newt’s chin rested in his hands, elbows keeping him propped up while he watched Chuck scrub against the rim of the toilet, listening to his groans of disgust in amusement. “Elbow grease, chuckie, it’ll help ya’ in the long run.” Chuck huffed, turning over to him with a pout, chubby cheeks puffing out even farther. “This ain’t as easy as it shuckin’ looks, not all of us get the privilege to limp around all day.” He nodded toward the blondes bad leg, giggling when a sponge was tossed at his face, hardly managing to duck. “Ah, shut it, Chuckie, before I give ya’ a real mess to clean up.” Newt let his breath out heavily, closing his eyes and pressing his face back into his hands. The younger boy’s eyebrows crumpled warily, resting his arm and taking a break from his work. 

“It’s Thomas, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, of course it is, bloody shank won’t even spare a look at me, let alone try’na listen to a word I say. It’s disrespectful, I won’t be taking any of that klunk from a greenie.” Newt had paused, and felt his chest constrict at how bad it had been hitting him. Especially a few nights back. Thomas had wandered out of the woods (if only he knew what he’d been up to), and had been staring at Newt for quite a while, actually. Newt had pretended not to notice, but he had, keeping his own eyes fixed on the table in front of him. He knew something was wrong immediately. Thomas just kept staring, in total focus. Newt wasn’t one to be self conscious, but he felt almost naked with the intensity of that stare. Thomas had came back, and to make it worse, didn’t say a word. Didn’t acknowledge the blond in any way. And yeah, it did hurt.

Chuck sighed, a low, impatient sound, that had his older friend’s head perk up but he didn’t say anything, and frankly, Chuck didn’t want him to. It was hard enough with Tommy and Newt both so damn oblivious. He really didn’t know what was worse. Watching Newt limp over to Thomas as quick as he could after the other came out of the maze, almost anxious (“ah, shuck it, he’s a bloody useful lad, I wanted to make sure he was in one piece), or Thomas’ observing him in all hours of the day, refusing any help except from Newt himself (“he’s second in command, Chuck, of course I’m not going to deny any kind of assistance”.) It was magnetic, and it was automatic. To the point where if one had said to jump, the other would’ve said, “how high?”, without any hesitation.

The thought had Chuck giggling again, and he just shook his head with Newt glanced at him questioningly. Chuck lifted himself from the toilet seat, placing himself on the low counter beside it. He let his legs swing back and forth, and he jabbed his thumb against his chest. “Alright, I think we both know, if anyone knows Thomas, it’s me-” Newt rolled his eyes, “-and I know Thomas wouldn’t do something like this without a reason. He’s a hero, you slinthead, not a teenage girl holding a grudge.” Chuck paused, aware of how loud he spoke, and then raised his voice to the other room. “No offence, Teresa!” He was followed with a “None taken” distantly, and he turned back to Newt with a shrug. 

“Look, I’m not an expert on this kind of thing, ‘cause everyone shuckin’ loves me.” He ignored the scoff of the other and he cracked his knuckles. “I say you grow a pair and do something about it.” Newt stared at him blankly, almost ready to hit the dumb shank, but he pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. It was true that he really hadn’t tried to fix anything. Approaching didn’t work and neither did greetings, but that’s all he could will himself to do. How was this supposed to resolve by him waiting and talking to some kid about it? No offense to Chuckie himself, but, the kid wasn’t even an expert on properly cleaning up after everyone else. Newt stood, quickly, and with a low, “You missed a spot”, he slipped out of the room before Chuck could bat an eye, with a look of determination.

Well, if Thomas wouldn’t come to him, he’d come to Thomas.


End file.
